


Civil Law

by orphan_account



Series: Civil Law [1]
Category: Captain America (Comics), Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Daredevil (TV), Marvel (Comics), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe, Established Relationship, F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-26
Updated: 2016-01-19
Packaged: 2018-05-09 14:24:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 16,252
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5543204
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Bucky Barnes is arrested for the crimes he committed as the Winter Soldier, Steve Rogers goes to the only lawyer he trusts with his best friend's life. Complications arise when Steve, as wildly in love with Matt Murdock as he still is with Bucky, is forced to choose between the two. Mash up of comic and cinematic universes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Steve followed the scattered little drops of blood from Matt’s open window to his bathroom, where his tattered suit had been dropped to the tile. First aid supplies had been left out on the counter. There were several small red puddles by the sink. He sighed, all resignation, and began to clean, taking care to replace things in their proper position.

Being in a relationship with another hero had its perks, but this wasn’t one of them: the intense worry and concern for his boyfriend’s safety. Matt could very well take care of himself – as he’d pointed out numerous times to an anxious, admittedly overbearing Steve – but Steve couldn’t help but fear the worst when his late night calls weren’t returned until midafternoon.

It would be different if Matt had powers like Bruce or Thor, but, being so human and so breakable, his own particular abilities wouldn’t always be enough to save him.

Thinking Big Picture, his and Matt’s being together might not have been the best of ideas. What began as a tentative sort of friendship turned into a friends with benefits situation, turned into dating, and, now, almost 3 years later, the thought of returning to a life without Matthew Murdock in it was crushing. Steve had never – would never, he suspected – stop loving Bucky, but Matt made him feel as though he could finally get on with living his life again and had stood close to him, grounded and unwavering, all through Bucky’s return and acclimation to the modern world, which had been nothing short of agony for Steve: everyday searching desperately for some trace of his best friend until Bucky was back, fighting and finally accepting his still being in love with Bucky, feeling guilty for having found someone else. Matt had been preternaturally patient and understanding throughout it all, even the uncomfortable bits. Having got through that together, Steve was sure that their relationship could withstand anything. Maybe. What he had to discuss with Matt tonight would certainly test that theory.

He was on his knees in the living room, scrubbing at the blood on the floor as if he could clean away even the pain and scabs of these injuries, when Matt came down the stairs, cane in hand, suit jacket slung over an arm.

“You gonna tell me what’s wrong?” he asked without preamble. “I could hear your heart pounding from across the street.” Coming to the end of the stairs, he set down his things and came close to Steve, taking the bigger man by the waist and kissing him. “You didn’t have to clean.”

“I don’t mind.” Steve said.

“It’s good to come home to you.”

Steve carefully removed Matt’s glasses from his face and kissed him, trying to impart in that physical contact all of the love and affection he felt for the slighter man. Matt made the same soft whiny sort of sounds that he knew Steve loved to hear and reached around to grope playfully at his boyfriend’s backside.

For the first time in months, Steve had been in town for longer than several days at a time. He was practically living with Matt at this point, stopping in every day and sleeping over every night. There hadn’t been any Daredevil business up until last night, when Matt had slipped out of bed without waking Steve and still hadn’t returned when Steve left in the early morning.

One side of Matt’s jaw was all scraped and it looked as though he’d been punched in the face. His sleeved were rolled up and one forearm had been messily bandaged, the other had what looked like a handprint bruised into it. If Matt was in any pain he didn’t show it, clutching Steve close to him and kissing his boyfriend over and over with enthusiasm.

“Rough night?” Steve asked, running his fingers through Matt’s hair.

“You should see the other guy.” Matt replied with a smile. He pressed one final loving kiss to Steve’s lips and nodded to a fat manila folder in Steve’s other hand. “What’s that?”

“It’s… I need… Um… Can we sit down?”

“Sure.”

Matt twined his fingers through his boyfriend’s and led him to the couch. He sat down with Steve on his knees between Matt’s open legs.

“Does it hurt?” Steve asked, eying the hasty mess of a bandage on Matt’s bare forearm.

Matt shrugged.

“You should let me rewrap that.”

“Later. What’s wrong?”

“You know what’s going on with Bucky, what they’re saying about him in the press?”

Matt couldn’t help but grimace. Since Steve’s best friend – who had tried, over and over, to kill him and who was nothing like the man Steve remembered and wished for – had reemerged and been identified as the Winer Soldier, Steve had been a blue, guilt-ridden mess. Matt couldn’t count all the nights he’d spent holding Steve in his arms and watching him weep, his heart breaking for his boyfriend and hardening itself against Bucky Barnes. Now, as Steve had been worrying about nonstop, Bucky was about to be tried for the crimes he’d committed under HYDRA’s control. Matt hoped that the Winter Soldier’s being put behind bars for the rest of his life would help bring some solace to Steve.

“I’ve been hearing about it on the news.” he replied, hoping he didn’t sound too flippant. "It's all talk right now, they haven't made an arrest."

“He wasn’t the one who killed those people. That was all Hydra. They’re trying to punish an innocent man.”

Steve’s heartbeat was accelerating. Matt took his boyfriend’s face in his hands, brushing his thumb over Steve’s cheekbone.

“I know, Steve,” he said softly. “I know. I’m sorry.”

“No lawyer will touch the case. They’re all saying it’s open-and-shut.”

“Well… they’re right. You can’t exactly argue _mind control_.”

“Why not?”

“There’s no way to prove it.”

“But what if there was? We both know it’s a real thing.”

“I guess so. It would still take one hell of a lawyer.”

“Lawyers like Nelson and Murdock?” Steve said tentatively, stomach dropping as Matt’s entire body went still. Matt put his hands on his thighs and slowly leant back into the couch cushions.

“You want me to defend him.” he stated.

“This is everything I’ve been able to gather on his case,” Steve said, picking up the manila folder. “S.H.I.E.L.D. and Hydra files, medical records, anything that might help.”

“Steve.”

“I also know some people who are willing to testify on his behalf, there's a list in here.”

Working hard to keep his voice even, Matt coolly replied, “Isn’t this the same man who came after you with a knife not even a year ago?”

“It wasn’t _him_ , Matt. It wasn’t _Bucky_. Everyone just wants someone to take the blame for what Hydra did, but he’s just as much a victim as the people they forced him to take out. He’s my best friend, Matt. Please. I’ll understand if you say no, and I’ll find another lawyer.” He set the folder on the floor and placed his hands over Matt’s. “But you’re the only person I really trust with this case.”

Matt didn’t take his hands away, but he didn’t respond, either. Steve watched him shut his eyes and tilt his head to the side, frowning and furrowing his brow in a pained sort of expression.

He knew that Matt had every reason to say no. It was a lot to ask of him, maybe even too much. But Matt hadn’t dismissed the idea (as Steve had suspected he would do right away). Matt clenched and unclenched his handsome jaw for a long moment, before taking in a high, sharp breath and answering, “I’m not saying no… but I’m not saying yes, either.”

“You’ll think about it?”

“I will. I promise.”

Steve seized Matt’s hand and turned his face into Matt’s palm, kissing the callused skin. “I love you,” he said, sounding entirely too relieved.

Matt had moved past being jealous of Steve’s former lover; now all his feelings towards Bucky Barnes were tied up in intense resentment, more for his having made Steve go through what he did than for having seen Matt’s boyfriend naked. But if proving Bucky’s innocence was so important to Steve, Matt would try to find a way to set his anger aside. After all, he wouldn’t be able to do his best work in the courtroom if he wanted to watch his client suffer.

The case would certainly prove an interesting challenge, and was high-profile enough that, were they to win, his and Foggy’s private practice would skyrocket. He hadn’t lied to Steve: he would think about it, and talk to Foggy about it.

He only wished that it was anyone else in the world besides Bucky Barnes.

“I’ll get started on dinner.” Matt said flatly, standing and removing his hand from Steve’s face. He walked to the kitchen, leaving Steve on his knees, and started rummaging through the refrigerator. “Foggy and Karen are coming over.”

“Great. Anything I can help with?” Steve stood up and went to the bar.

“There’s enough in here for a salad, maybe. Can you work on that? And I’ll put some pasta on the stove.”

“Sure.”

Steve moved into the kitchen and began laying out ingredients. Matt seemed standoffish – which was fair, Steve had to concede. It was a huge favor to ask, and Steve knew he would have to ready himself for whatever Matt’s answer would be.

Matt had helped Steve through an undeniably dark, messy time, and the two of them came out of it united and stronger than ever. Having undergone that, surely they could get through this together.


	2. Chapter 2

Bucky was arrested on a Monday. On Wednesday, bail was set at $5 million. By Thursday, Tony Stark had paid all of it.

Matt, Foggy, and Karen all flew to Washington the following Sunday, where Bucky had resided since he’d broken free of Hydra’s control.

Foggy parked the rental car in front of Bucky’s apartment and whistled. “If I start working for Putin, too, can I make this kind of bank?” he joked.

“You do know Hydra didn’t operate under Putin?” Karen said flatly.

“As far as we know,” Foggy said.

“Maybe don’t make any Russia jokes in front of him,” she suggested.

They were buzzed into the building, and when James Barnes answered the door and welcomed them inside, Matt’s very first thought was, _god-awful vocal fry_ , followed by, _you banged my boyfriend_.

Karen and Foggy took a liking to him almost at once and Matt felt a bit betrayed. _He must be handsome_. The man was undeniably well-mannered. Military gait and posture. Matt could hear the muted tapping of his foot on the floor – nervous, impatient. Fingers running back through hair, over and over; _he must keep it long, shoulder-length at most_.

Bucky introduced Karen and Foggy to Natasha Romanov. Matt had met her several times through Steve. Kind enough to Matt, still so stoic and stiff. She sat silently in a chair next to Bucky’s across from the three of them on the couch. Matt could practically feel her sizing him up. He’d suspected from the first time they met that she didn’t wholly approve of him for Steve. _Oh, well_.

The urge to cross examine Bucky was overwhelming. He let Foggy do all of the talking, only half listening to their conversation. He’d have to be better, he knew, if they were going to have any shot at winning this case, but he figured he’d earned the right to be just a little bit petty.

Bucky laid out for them all the details he could remember of his past life. Foggy talked to him about the court process, what to expect from interrogations, how he should behave throughout it all. When they were finished, Bucky and Natasha shook everyone’s hands. Natasha offered advice on the best route to the airport.

“We’ll see you soon, Mr. Barnes,” Foggy said as they were shown out the door.

“Looking forward to it.” Bucky said. “Thank you for coming.”

Matt, Foggy, and Karen walked silently together down the hallway and into the elevator. As soon as the doors slid shut, Foggy wheeled on Matt and demanded, “Are you gonna be able to work this case?”

“What do you mean?”

“You just spent the last 2 hours glaring at our client without a word. Not exactly encouraging lawyer behavior.”

“I don’t need to be encouraging. We’re his only chance and he knows it.”

Foggy scoffed. “If we want him to open up a bit then _yeah_ , you do. This is some heavy stuff he’s had to go through. Dragging it all back up for a jury isn’t gonna be easy for the poor guy.”

“You really feel sorry for him?”

“Look, I know you’ve got your beef because of Steve and all that, but-”

“You do know he tried to kill him?”

Karen put her hand on his arm. “Hey, Matt-”

“He put bullets in Steve – not _bullet_ , bullets. And you haven’t even heard half of what the aftermath was like: Steve’s depression, his-”

“Bucky has caused a lot of pain, for you and for the families of the Winter Soldier’s victims.” Karen said. “But Hydra forced him to do those things. Bucky Barnes is _not_ your enemy, Matt. If you can’t set your feelings aside, it might be best for Foggy to take this one by himself.”

“Which I don’t want to do,” Foggy interjected. “This isn’t going to be easy for anyone, man. We need to work as a team: you, me, Karen, _and_ Bucky.”

Matt bit the inside of his cheek and said nothing.

He didn’t speak to either of them on the drive to the airport and the return flight to New York. When they were back at LaGuardia, he quietly wished them both a goodnight and caught a taxi cab to his apartment.

Steve had taken off with Sam on Avengers business in Eau Claire, Wisconsin, 2 days after he’d approached Matt about defending Bucky. With Steve having spent all that time in New York, Matt had started to grow accustomed to being with him every day. Coming home to an empty apartment was just as dismal as waking up in an empty bed had been earlier that morning.

Matt stood at the top of the stairs and sighed. Bath, then food, then he’d climb into bed and call Steve. They hadn’t spoken since Bucky made bail 3 days ago, and some decent phone sex was long overdue.

Steve sounded exhausted, though, when he answered Matt’s call a few hours later. “How’d it go today?” he asked around a yawn.

“Fine,” Matt lied, taking his hand out of his pajama pants where it rested right underneath his navel.

“Yeah?”

He reached down to the floor and picked up an open bag of potato chips. So phone sex was a no-go, but he was still glad to be talking to Steve. It unnerved him a bit, how much he’d come to need Steve in his life and how deeply he’d fallen in love with him. The sound of his boyfriend’s voice was so warm and so soothing. “I think we can put together a strong defense, as long as he cooperates and says what we tell him to.”

“Was that a problem, not cooperating?”

“No, it was fine… He was fine. Honestly, I went in today expecting the worst. But he seems like… an okay guy, I guess. Is he good-looking? He must be good-looking; Karen and Foggy both got all flustered when he answered the door.”

“He’s… easy on the eyes, one could say.”

“Would _you_ say so?”

“I’m not the best judge.”

 _So that’s a yes_ , Matt bitterly concluded. He rolled his eyes at his own foolishness and pushed the thought aside. Whatever used to be between Steve and Bucky was long over. Steve may still have lingering feelings for his best friend, but he was with Matt now. Matt didn’t want to play the jealous boyfriend. It wasn’t fair to Steve, who, Matt knew, was really trying to fight his feelings for Bucky.

Matt couldn’t imagine what it must’ve been like for Steve: seeing the love of his life fall to his death, crashing a plane into the ocean thinking he had no one left to live for, and then, on top of having woken up in a different century, finding out that Bucky was alive and brainwashed to kill.

He felt like an asshole for having behaved so coldly to Bucky. He had willingly taken Bucky on as a client and agreed to defend him. It was time to start doing both of his jobs: fighting like hell for his client, and being the best boyfriend he could to Steve.

“How was your day?” he asked around a mouthful of potato chips.

Steve sighed. “Honestly? Not good.”

“Are you allowed to talk about it?”

“Not yet. Not until we know for sure what we're dealing with.”

“I wish I could help.”

“Mm. I know.”

Matt could hear the smile in Steve’s voice. “When will you be done, do you think?” he asked.

“Miss me already?”

“What of it?” Matt teased.

“I miss you.”

“You miss free room and board.”

Steve laughed. “That, too. Mostly you, though.”

“What are you and Sam up to?”

There was a pause on the other end. When it went for a bit too long, Matt said, “Steve?”

“Nothing tonight, really. More work.”

He didn’t want to think Steve was lying, but something in his voice was a bit off. He was probably being careful, Matt decided, in case the line was being tapped.

“Give him my best?” Matt said.

“Sure thing.”

“Hey, Steve?”

“Yes?”

“You should come back soon, so that we can make out on park benches and have sex in a public restroom.”

“You read my mind.” Steve replied with a laugh. Matt heard Sam’s voice in the background, and Steve said, “I should probably go, we’re heading out soon.”

“All right.”

“I love you, Matthew Murdock.”

“Come back to me in one piece.”

“Will do. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Captain.”

Matt licked the last few crumbs from his fingers and crumpled the bag, throwing it across the room and into the wastebasket. Having just been on the phone with his boyfriend didn’t do much to chip away at the loneliness. What he really wanted was for Steve to move in with him. At this point, he had a drawer in Matt's dresser, he had a toothbrush here, his laundry was all intermingled with Matt's, the neighbors asked after him. They still hadn’t officially gone public with their relationship, and Matt wasn’t sure if it was a good time to bring up the idea. Maybe someday. Maybe soon.

He slipped his hand underneath his pajama pants and thought some more about Steve, specifically the farewell blowjob Matt had received before Steve left for Wisconsin. That warm voice still lingering in his ears, he wrapped his hand around himself and tried to remember in detail the way Steve’s hot, wet mouth had felt.


	3. Chapter 3

Steve and Sam put on their jackets and walked out of their suite to the hotel’s parking lot.

“Was that Matt on the phone?” Sam asked as he slid into the rental car’s driver’s seat. They fastened their seatbelts and drove out onto the street, following the car’s GPS. “How’s he doing?”

“He met with Bucky today.”

“And?”

“He says they have what they need to put together a solid defense.”

“That’s great, man. That’s really great.” Sam said. “Now what I want to know is, whose legs do we have to break for leaking Bucky’s identity to the press in the first place?”

Steve nodded in solemn agreement. If he ever found out who had outed Bucky as the Winter Soldier, he’d have no reservations about legs being broken.

Staring silently out the window, a memory rose up, unbidden, of the last night he’d spent with Bucky, the night before the train.

They’d been in their shared tent together, Bucky sprawled out on Steve’s cot, shirtless and smiling and nibbling away at a bar of chocolate piece by piece. Steve had been sitting at the small makeshift desk with his sketchbook, erasing and redrawing the section of dark hair that had fallen over Bucky’s forehead, trying to capture all the sweet, subtle softness in Bucky’s face.

“When this is all over,” Bucky had said, licking chocolate from his fingertips. He ate the last piece of the bar, crumpled the wrapper, and tossed it aside. “You and me should go back to Paris.”

“Paris?”

“Yeah, city of lovers. We’ve never been on a real vacation. They’ve got all those old art museums, you love that kinda stuff. We could actually  _ see  _ the city, go exploring, you know?”

Steve had smiled and closed his sketchbook, rising and walking to the cot. He’d climbed on top of Bucky and lowered himself into Bucky’s open arms, kissing his sugary mouth, the soft skin of his neck. Bucky had been all warm and loose, the way he felt just after waking up in the morning.

“Stevie,” Bucky had sighed, wrapping his arms around Steve’s shoulders. “Don’t leave any marks.”

“I know.”

Bucky had moved one hand to Steve’s jaw and lifted his face for another slow, sweet kiss. It had surprised Steve when they’d first started sneaking around how gentle and attentive and affectionate of a lover Bucky was, nothing at all like the slick charmer he came off as with all the women Steve had seen him with.  _ That’s because I’m in love with you _ , Bucky had said to him once when Steve shared the observation,  _ not just trying to get into your pants _ .

They had kissed for a long while, enjoying this uninterrupted time together before they set off on another mission tomorrow morning. They shifted awkwardly around in the small cot, chuckling into one another’s mouths, until Bucky was on top of Steve.

“Do you want to...?” Bucky had whispered, rolling his hips down into Steve’s.

In response, Steve had reached down between their bodies and into Bucky’s fatigues, working him with firm, confident strokes until Bucky was flushed and panting.

“God, Steve, I love you so much.”

“I love you, too, Buck. Always.”

That was a lifetime ago. The next day, Steve had watched Bucky fall to his death and wanted to leap after him. Decades later, Matthew Murdock had walked into Steve’s new life and suddenly the world didn’t seem so lonely and strange.

“What do I do, Sam?” he wondered aloud.

“Context?”

“About Bucky. And Matt.”

“Ah.” Sam paused for a minute before continuing. “I don’t think there’s an easy solution to that one. You’ve just gotta... figure it out. Sorry. Wish I could be more helpful.”

“Things were a lot simpler when I thought he was dead.”

“Death’s got a way of simplifying things.”

What Steve privately, irrationally wished for was to hold onto both of them. He wondered if Bucky even wanted him still. He wondered if maybe Bucky hadn’t already moved on; Steve watched the way Bucky and Natasha interacted with one another. He knew Bucky had trained Natasha back in Russia, and he knew about how intimate the two of them had been.

_ I’ve got the kindest, most understanding boyfriend on the planet _ , he thought glumly to himself,  _ and I’m still pining after another man _ . Matt Murdock - all lean, hard muscle and ticklish stubble and sardonic humor and immeasurable patience - deserved better. Steve ran his fingers through his hair with a sigh, turning on the car radio to drown out his thoughts for a while.

They were driving to Rochester, Minnesota, about 2 hours away from Eau Claire. The gang they’d been tracking had headed out 15 minutes before they did and stopped at a dingy little bar just outside of the city.

Sam and Steve had been assigned to watch a local gang that had been in frequent contact with other criminal groups across the Midwest. Something big was in the works. Nick Fury had his suspicions, but they needed confirmation before they could put a plan into motion.

Sam parked in the far corner of the bar’s gravel lot. When they walked inside and seated themselves at the bar, ordering two beers that neither of them touched, the Eau Claire men were all sitting at a table with another group, about 15 of them in total.

“Where is he now?” a man nicknamed Jaguar, one of the Wisconsin boys, asked.

“Safe house in Minneapolis, guarded by our men,” replied a man Steve recognized as Bronson, a wildly violent criminal from the outskirts of the Twin Cities. “You just be ready for us in 2 weeks, he’ll be there.”

“Bronson, what’s the endgame here?” Jaguar asked. “We get him all the way to New York, and then what?”

Bronson downed the last of his beer. “Well... first, he’s gonna wanna deal with the Daredevil.”

Sam looked at Steve, whose grip tightened on his drink until the glass shattered in his hand. Steve apologized to the bartender, who shooed his hands away and started cleaning up the shards.

“You need someone to look at that hand, sweetheart?” she asked as she wiped down the countertop.

“I’ll be all right, thank you. Sorry about the mess.” Steve said.

“How ‘bout another beer?” she asked.

“Thank you, ma’am, but we should be heading out.” Sam said, laying down cash for both of their drinks and a tip. He put his arm around Steve and started walking him to the door. “Have a great night.”

“Okay... You boys take it easy,” she called after them.

“They’re not even gonna get close to Matt.” Sam assured him once they were outside. “Now that we’ve got confirmation, we’ll have our people waiting for him in Chicago.”

“How did Fisk even get out of prison?”

“A man that powerful... I’m sure he has his ways. You gonna talk to Matt?”

Before Steve could respond, a bullet was fired into the side of their rental car. Both men whirled around at once, poised for attack. The biggest of all the men in the bar, Bronson, had a gun on them. 

“There a reason you two been following my friends here?” he hollered. Behind him, the entirety of both gangs was filing out of the bar.

Steve and Sam exchanged glances. They couldn’t face these men down without giving their new knowledge away. At this point, they might just think Steve and Sam were police officers or even rival gang members. Their best option was to escape as quickly as possible, and they did just that: Sam tossed a smoke bomb he kept concealed in his jacket and they climbed into the car, dodging what bullets they could as they peeled out of the parking lot and into the night.

Steve got Sharon on the phone and called for a plane, routing their GPS to the pickup location.

“Back to New York, then?” Sam said.

“Unless you want to go back to Eau Claire, where they’ve probably got surveillance on the hotel if they knew we’d follow them to Minnesota.”

“You think this changes things with Fisk?”

“We know he’s hunkering down in Minneapolis for a while, doing God only knows what. We’ll just have to get to him before they change their plans, if they even change them at all.”

As they sped through the city, Steve’s thoughts all wandered back to Matt. He needed to tell him that Fisk was out, and that he was coming after Daredevil. His first fear was that Matt would drop everything in Washington and head straight for Minneapolis. With Bucky’s trial coming up, it might be best for Matt to focus. Knowing about Fisk would only add to his stress.

They arrived at the coordinates Sharon had sent them and, abandoning the car, climbed aboard the plane and took off.


	4. Chapter 4

“It’s going on 4pm,” Foggy said, stretching his arms above his head with a yawn. “What are they playing at here? We go to trial next week.”

Matt tapped his cane irritably against the side of his foot. Steve had called a few days ago and said he was back in New York, and Matt was hoping he could get on the 5:30pm flight to LaGuardia instead of the 9pm. “They get 10 minutes, and then we’re leaving,” he grumbled.

“Why do I feel like I’m being toyed with?” Bucky snapped.

“Because that’s exactly what’s going on here,” Matt replied, taking off his glasses for a moment to pinch at the bridge of his nose.  “We shouldn’t have agreed to meet with them. There’s still so much work to do.”

They’d all been asked to come to the Assistant District Attorney’s office for “just a few quick questions.” Since the trio had arrived at 2:30pm, ADA Blake Tower and Detective Joannie Swackhammer had been asking Bucky, very coolly and nonchalantly, the same questions he’d already confirmed, showed him the same pictures he’d already seen.

The two had just stepped out of the office for a few minutes, leaving Foggy, Matt, and Bucky impatient and irritated when the door finally opened and Detective Swackhammer had a cup of coffee in her hand.

“Sorry about that,” Tower said offhandedly, returning to his seat.

“10 minutes, and we’re gone.” Foggy said.

“As is your right, Counselor,” Swackhammer said. She set her coffee aside and sat down on the edge of the table. “We’re almost done here, just a few more questions.” She looked at Bucky and gestured to the photos spread out in front of him. “So you don’t remember any of these victims?”

“Not clearly, no.” Bucky coolly replied.

“But you’re the one who killed them, right?”

Bucky looked at Foggy, who gave him a single nod, before answering, “Under Pierce’s control, yes.”

“But Pierce didn’t kill these people. You did.”

“We’re here as a courtesy, Detective.” Matt said. “Is there a question, or are you going to keep badgering our client?”

“Getting to it, Mr. Murdock.” Swackhammer sat down in the chair directly across from Bucky. “Now, you’re not the only one we’re seeing in these surveillance photos. Sometimes there’s a woman with you, this redhead here, in the most recent pictures.” She put her finger on a blurry photo of two figures walking side by side. “We are ready to make you a deal if you’ll give up her identity.”

“No.” Bucky said at once.

Swackhammer raised her eyebrows at the unexpected hostility. “Friend of yours?”

“You’re looking at a lifetime sentence, Mr. Barnes,” Tower said when Bucky didn’t reply. “You help us, we can try to get you 20 years in solitary. You’ll get to breathe free air again.”

Matt picked up the sudden rapidity of Bucky’s heartbeat and, before Bucky could open his mouth, smoothly stepped in. “Bucky can’t give you her name because he doesn’t know it. She’s another random agent who was assigned to work with him as a handler. If this is the real reason you brought us all the way over here, you should’ve said so an hour ago - or, better yet, been upfront with us instead of reaching out on a pretense.” He stood up, Bucky and Foggy following suit, and headed for the door. “We’ll see you in court.”

“Now they’re trying to drag Natasha into all of this?” Bucky hissed once they were out in the hallway.

“Don’t worry, they don’t have anything,” Matt assured him. “Or they wouldn’t have called us in.”

“What a waste of an afternoon,” Foggy grumbled. “You guys hungry? There’s a deli around the corner.”

“What time is it?” Matt asked.

“About a quarter to 4:00,” Bucky said.

“You two go ahead, I’m gonna grab a cab and go pack.”

“Did you find an earlier flight?” Foggy asked.

“Yeah, 5:30.”

They stepped out of the double doors of the entrance and onto the sidewalk. Foggy patted Matt on the shoulder. “Safe travels, man. Give my best to Steve.” Matt could feel his friend suddenly tense, looking awkwardly back and forth between Matt and Bucky.

The three of them had discussed Steve plenty of times, even talked to him together on speaker as they figured out what key points he needed to hit in the courtroom. He was their star witness. They hadn’t, however, brought him up in so personal a light. There was no way Bucky didn’t know that Matt was dating him - and how Matt really felt about Bucky - but knowing something was one thing, talking about it and giving it life was another.

Bucky’s smoky voice cut through the tension. “Hey, Foggy, can I have a quick minute with Matt? I’ll meet you over at the deli.”

“Sure thing!” Foggy said with relief. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Matt!”

“Can I say something, Murdock?” Bucky asked once they were alone. His heart was beating a little too quickly and there was a slight tremor in his voice. If Matt had to guess, he’d say Bucky seemed almost _nervous_.

“Sure.” Matt replied warily.

“I know you didn’t want to take this case, and you have good reasons for that. You've gotta know that there’s nothing between me and Steve. Not anymore. Me and Natasha are... well, you know. Steve and I used to have feelings for each other, yeah, but that was literally a lifetime ago and he’s crazy about you. And I wish I could take back all the grief I’ve caused you two, but… I just hope that one day you and me can be friends.”

“Okay.” Matt said woodenly, grateful for his glasses concealing at least a small bit of his expression. This wasn’t a conversation he’d been meaning to have with Bucky. Ever. “Is that all?” he asked when Bucky didn’t make any move to leave.

“Thank you for doing this. Defending me, I mean. I’m glad I have such formidable lawyers.”

Matt gave him a tight almost-smile. “Just doing my job.”

“Still. I really appreciate it.”

They stood in silence for a long, uncomfortable moment, and Matt was about to say something - anything - when Bucky said, “I’ll see you next week, then.”

“Yes.”

“Take care.”

“Bye.”

He left Matt standing there alone and feeling unsure of himself. Before long, a small gaggle of journalists and photographers rounded the corner and descended on him. Fuck, if this wasn't the strangest, most difficult case he'd ever worked on. 


	5. Chapter 5

As soon as the plane touched down, Matt took out his cell phone. “Call Steve.” He picked up on the second ring.

“I’m in New York.” Matt said without preamble.

“I want to see you,” Steve said. “Are you busy day after tomorrow? We can go to that restaurant you wanted to try.”

“I have to meet with a client; we’re still working that other case right now. But you can come over tonight, if you’re free.”

“I’ll try. Not likely, though,” Steve said sadly. “Things are really picking up over here.”

“Avengers business?”

“‘Fraid so.”

Matt heard a voice in the background on Steve’s end: Tony Stark, unmistakably. Thor’s voice after Stark's. He didn’t know how much time they had left to talk - at this point, he didn’t even know when they were going to be together again - and so he took a deep breath, his heart in his throat, and said, “I know this isn’t a great time to bring this up, but in _our_ lives there’s _never_ really a great time, so... I was wondering if you’d maybe... like to move in with me. Maybe not right now, of course, but after everything’s settled with Bucky and with... whatever you’re up to? I was just wondering, since it’s been a few years now and you were coming over so often anyway and-”

“I would love that.”

“Yeah?”

“Absolutely.”

Stark's voice in the background again, more insistent this time.

“Do you have to go?” Matt asked.

“I do,” Steve said on a sigh.

“I swear to God, Rogers, if I don’t get to see you at some point within the next week... We’re in the same fucking city.”

“I know. It’s ridiculous. Listen, when I come to Washington to testify I’ll try to stay another day or two.”

“I’d really like that.”

After he hung up, the older woman seated across from him who had asked, “Why the long face?” at boarding and then actively listened to his rant about “Scott” and “Buddy” for the majority of the flight, reached across the aisle and touched his arm.

“S’that the boyfriend?” she asked.

“Yup.”

She gave his arm a squeeze. “You could do so much better, hon. You’re young, you’re handsome, you’ve got a kind heart. Find someone who wants you and _only_ you. You deserve it.”

He tried and failed to give her a small smile, mumbling, “Thanks,” and helping her take her suitcase out of the overhead once the seatbelt sign was turned off.

Back at his apartment - empty, chilly, messy - he unpacked and made a halfhearted attempt to clean the place up a bit, blaring The Smiths ( _Because I’m a fucking masochist_ , he thought wryly to himself) and wishing Foggy was back from Washington already. He didn’t want to be left alone with a mountain of paperwork and a stranger’s words floating around in his head: _You could do so much better_.

He called Karen: busy. Claire: working. Foggy wasn’t coming back until way later that evening. His lengthy list of friends ended there, so he changed into his pajamas, turned up his music, and settled into working on Nelson and Murdock’s second case: murder charge, no witnesses, neurotic client, great fun.

When there was a knock at his door around 3am, he figured Foggy had gone from the airport to the bar and gotten shitfaced with Karen again.

“Go home,” he hollered from the couch, in no mood to take care of the pair.

“You sure?” Steve replied. “I’ve got cheesecake and a six-pack.”

Matt threw open the door and wrapped his arms around Steve’s neck, kissing along the underside of his boyfriend’s handsome jaw. Steve held him close as best as he could with, sure enough, an entire boxed cheesecake in one hand and a six-pack in the other.

“You brought me cheesecake?” Matt said with a smile, kissing Steve’s warm, perfect lips, pressing his hips into Steve’s, running his fingers through Steve’s hair, breathing in Steve’s smell. “ _And_ beer? How did I get so lucky?”

“I can’t stay too long,” Steve said glumly. “But I really missed you. How was your flight?”

“Uneventful.” Matt lied. He took the cheesecake from Steve - _What a dreamboat, goddamn_ \- and pulled him inside by Steve’s free hand, leading him to the kitchen. “How was Wisconsin?”

“Eh, you know... Work stuff. Not that great.”

Matt set the cake box down on the counter, lifting the lid and lowering his face. “Homemade,” he whimpered, whirling around and pulling Steve in for another kiss. “You went all the way to that place in Queens.”

Steve finally held him for real, all hugeness, closeness, hard muscle, and heat. He took Matt’s lower lip between his teeth and tugged and then, when Matt parted his lips, licked into his boyfriend’s mouth. Steve was the best damn kisser Matt had ever known; he felt his knees start to weaken and slid his hands inside Steve’s leather jacket, hugging him tight around the waist. He moaned into Steve’s mouth when those big, warm hands moved down into the back of Matt’s pants and squeezed his backside.

“Bedroom?” Matt panted.

“I’ve gotta take off soon.”

“How ‘bout I just blow you right here, then?” Matt suggested, getting down on his knees and unbuttoning Steve’s jeans with enthusiasm.

“Wait.” Steve placed his hands over Matt’s. “There’s something I wanted to talk to you about.”

“Is this a long talk or a short talk?”

“Short talk. Promise.”

Matt sighed and stood up, crossing to a drawer and pulling out 2 forks as Steve opened a bottle of beer and placed it close to Matt. Matt leaned against the counter and dug into the cake. “Listening,” he said.

“We’ve been getting reports of increased gang activity in the city. If you’re going out on patrol, watch your back.”

“What kind of activity?”

“Nothing we can’t handle. Just giving you a head’s up.”

“Getting a little bit annoyed with the smoke and mirrors routine, babe.”

“If it were up to me, you’d be in the loop.”

Matt took a long swig from the beer bottle. “It’s _my_ city, too.”

“It is, which is why I’m letting you know-”

“‘Increased gang activity.’” Matt snorted and shook his head. “Okay. Whatever.”

“No, not ‘whatever.’” Steve stood directly in front of Matt, taking his boyfriend by the hips. “Talk to me.”

“I get it, Steve. Super secret Avengers business. Clearance issues. What I don’t know can’t be tortured out of me.” Matt ran both his hands back through his hair and then settled them on the counter. “I’m sorry, I just... I had kind of a weird talk with Bucky today.”

“Weird how?”

“Weird’s not the right word. He was... giving us his blessing, I guess. The reason why I didn’t like him was because of the way he’d made you feel, when you finally found him and he wasn’t the person you needed him to be. But since we started working on his case, I realized that all the things that were done to him are what made him that way. None of it was Bucky’s fault. And, if I’m being completely honest...” Matt felt himself blushing and turned his face to the floor. “I was jealous. Still am. Because you’re still in love with him.”

Steve tensed. He took in several breaths as though he were about to speak, but deflated every time. Finally, backing away from Matt and leaning against the opposite counter, he tentatively said, “I do care about him, but-” and then reached into his pocket to answer his buzzing phone.

“Duty calls?” Matt asked dryly.

“I’m sorry, I have to-”

“Do what you've gotta do.”

Steve walked out the kitchen and, shoveling cheesecake into his mouth, Matt heard Natasha on the other line, speaking with urgency, and almost choked.

“ _What_?!" Matt barked. "He’s not supposed to leave Washington. They can arrest him.”

“I’m on it,” Steve said into the phone. He hung up and followed Matt into the bedroom, where Matt grabbed a pair of pants and a shirt at random and hastily stripped out of his sleepwear.

“Where is he?” he demanded. “Does he realize how _bad_ this could be? This jeopardizes the whole fucking case! I’ve gotta call Foggy.”

“Matt, let me go to him-”

“No.” Matt’s voice took on that stern attorney tone, the one he’d never used on Steve. “He's _my_ client. _This_ is _my_ business now. You need to tell me where he is and stay out of my way.”

“Pierce’s goons went to see him and told him Natasha and Sam were being held hostage here. They knew he’d drop everything and try to save them. It was a trap to lure him out of the state, probably to get him indicted.”

“Well, it worked, unless by some miracle they haven’t tipped off the police yet. He does realize this changes _everything_ , right?”

“Yes, he does. He’s en route to the tower, I’m going over there right now.”

“I’m coming with you.”

Steve hesitated before responding, “Okay,” and the fact that Matt was so taken aback by the surrender couldn’t be a good thing.

That woman’s voice again in his head: _You could do so much better_.


	6. Chapter 6

Bucky looked pale and distraught when Steve and Matt met him in one of the conference rooms at Stark Tower. Natasha was seated beside him at the long table, rubbing his back and giving Matt a cold, hard stare when he walked into the room. _You know he can’t even_ see _you, right?_ Steve wanted to snap, giving her an admonishing look and settling into the chair across from Bucky.

“I’ve fucked it all up, haven’t I?” Bucky asked in a small voice.

Matt sat down next to Steve. “Possibly.” he replied. “Walk me through the details.”

“I was walking to my car, and these two Neo-Nazi assholes were waiting for me in the parking lot. They said something about sending me a message, and they told me that Nat and Sam were being held hostage inside the Statue of Liberty and if I wasn’t the one to come and get them, then the whole statue would be blown up.” He huffed a sigh and shook his head, lacing his fingers through Natasha’s when she put her hand over his. “They showed me a fucking video: Nat and Sam tied up, some guys beating on them. I should’ve known better.”

“And you and Sam Wilson were where, Ms. Romanov?” Matt asked.

“Here at the tower all night,” she said icily.

Matt sighed. “Shit.”

“What?” Steve asked.

“If you two had actually been held hostage,” Matt said, “We could’ve put some sort of heroic spin on this thing.”

“Oh?” she said. “I’ll keep that in mind the next time-”

“So, solutions.” Steve interrupted. “How can we fix this?”

“Bucky’s being indicted and he fled the state. It’s probably trending right now,” Matt said. “There’s no way to fix it. We’re gonna have to _deal_ with it.”

“Hey, guys...” Sam said, walking in with a tablet in his hands. “Bad news.”

“The police are looking for him?” Matt asked.

“FBI. And it gets worse.” He handed the tablet to Matt, who passed it to Steve. “Oh, right. Sorry.”

“They’re calling him all kinds of names in the press,” Steve said.

Matt shrugged. “Name-calling we can handle.”

“Watch the ADA’s statement,” Sam said, sitting down next to Natasha.

Matt could hear Blake Tower’s voice from the tablet: “When is anything _ever_ their fault? And by them, I mean the superhero community. When does the law apply to them? When is one of these masked men _ever_ to blame?* James Barnes is a _murderer_ . He fled the state. We will _not_ be making any concessions for this criminal.”

“He’s got a point,” Bucky muttered.

“He’s just doing his job,” Natasha said softly to him.

A young, anxious face suddenly peered into the doorway. “Um, excuse me, but, Mr. Barnes? There are some federal agents downstairs, they’re looking for you.”

“What happens now?” Bucky asked.

“Right now,” Matt said, “You go turn yourself in. They’re gonna take you back to Washington and you’ll sit in a jail cell until we go to trial. I can maybe pull some strings, keep you away from the general populace. Do not say _anything_ to _anybody_ for _any_ reason without me or Foggy present. You _will_ be seeing us before the trial, all right?”

“All right,” Bucky said tiredly, standing up and walking to the door with Natasha by his side.

When Sam, Steve, and Matt were alone, Sam smiled weakly and said, “This whole thing givin’ you a run for your money or what?”

Matt chuckled, more to keep himself from tearing his hair out than genuine mirth. Steve gave Matt’s thigh a comforting squeeze under the table.

“I’m sure you both have some work to get back to,” Matt said as he stood. “I’ll see myself out.”

“Take it easy, Matt,” Sam said warmly. “I’ll see you in Washington.” He stood up to shake Matt’s hand and then left the room.

“Do you want a ride back to your place?” Steve asked, following Matt out into the hallway.

“I think I’m gonna go walk for a while. Need to figure some things out.”

Steve suddenly took Matt by the arm and stopped him, walking around to stand in front of him. Matt could feel another talk coming on and resisted the urge to groan. When Steve started speaking, though, it was something he’d never expected to hear.

“I haven’t treated you fairly at all in the past year,” Steve said. “It’s been all about me and my problems, and you have been incredibly patient and understanding when you had every right to throw in the towel. You’re the best man I know, and I can’t believe you’re still putting up with me. I just want to say thank you.”

A part of Matt suspected that Steve was just saying what he knew Matt wanted him to, but when he put his hand to Steve’s chest and could physically feel, in addition to hearing, the strong, steady beat of his boyfriend’s heart, he was reminded of the unparalleled kindness and honesty that had made him fall so completely in love with Steve.

Steve put one hand over Matt’s on his chest, placing the other on one side of Matt’s unshaven face. “You have my heart,” he said strongly, touching his forehead to Matt’s. “You know that, right?”

Matt wanted more than anything for this to be one of those perfect moments. He could imagine himself smiling, taking Steve’s face in his hands, and kissing him hard on the mouth. When he opened his mouth to speak, he wanted to say, _Yes. Absolutely_. What came out instead was, “I really want to believe that. I just don’t think it’s true.” He gently removed his hand from underneath Steve’s and kissed him softly on the cheek, a sudden dark, achy feeling developing in his gut. “I’ll see you soon,” he said, walking past Steve’s frozen form to the elevator.

Once the doors slid shut and hid him from view, Matt doubled over, bracing his hands against his knees. He felt lightheaded and strange, as though he’d been drugged, as though he’d been punched in the stomach.

The elevator slowed to a stop several floors down and the doors opened. Matt had straightened his back and assumed a neutral expression by the time Natasha walked in.

“Trouble in paradise?” she asked. Matt could hear the smirk in her voice and heaved an exhausted sigh. He felt along the control panel until he found the emergency stop button and pushed it, turning to around to fully face her, open and vulnerable.

“What’s your issue with me, Natasha?” he demanded. “I’m doing everything I can to keep your boyfriend out of prison - and you, too, coincidentally.”

“I’ve never cared for lawyers. And I think you’re an asshole.”

“I figured.”

“The whole jealous boyfriend routine, being a dick to Bucky? It’s slimy and childish. It wasn’t easy for him to come to terms with what he did to Steve. He remembers trying to kill him, he has nightmares about it. Did you ever think about how shitty it must’ve been for _Bucky_ , realizing the love of his fucking life was trying to move on without him?”

“So that’s why you hate me? Because Steve asked me to dinner instead of saving himself for your friend, whom he thought had _died_ decades ago.” He put his hands up. “You know what: I’m tired of losing sleep over all of this. If Steve wants Bucky back, I’ll go quietly into the night and the two of you can fight it out over him. I can’t take another day of feeling guilty for being with him and making this whole thing harder than it needs to be.”

He could practically feel her rolling her eyes. “Don’t play the martyr, Murdock. No one blames you for this mess.”

“You do. Steve does; he’ll never admit it because he cares about me, but it’s always there. Right under the surface. If he’d never met me, then he and Bucky could’ve just picked up where they’d left off and he wouldn’t have to feel so torn.”

The elevator hummed back to life and took them down to the ground floor. Matt walked out without turning back. “Make sure you’re in court next week,” he called, shoving open the main entrance doors and pushing through the massive crowd of news people and paparazzi.

He’d never been more grateful to be blind when he heard all the hundreds of camera clicks. He tried not to shove too roughly as he made his way through the reporters pushing their tape recorders and microphones into his face.

“Counselor, over here!”

“Are Nelson and Murdock still defending Bucky Barnes?”

“How does this changes things for Barnes’ case?”

“If we could just get a quick statement...!”

He picked up his pace, a few of the crowd having broken off to follow after him, and turned sharply into a dark alleyway. He leapt up onto a fire escape, scaled the side of the building, and disappeared.

He walked to the edge of the rooftop and sat down, relieved to finally be alone and really feel what he was feeling: confusion, sadness, uncertainty, and, right underneath it all, intense longing and loneliness. He was pulled out of his brooding by a pair of rough voices down below, voices he could place right away: two violent gang members he’d roughed up in the past, Sonny Jones and Lucky. This was a long ways off of their turf, however, and Matt listened fully in on their conversation, wondering if they were out to start trouble.

“Where’s he holed up, anyway?” Sonny asked.

“Safe house in the Twin Cities. They’re gonna be transporting him to Eau Claire pretty soon, armored car and everything. Gotta detour a bit, though; turns out these 2 cops had been trailing the boys in Wisconsin.”

Eau Claire, Wisconsin. Matt’s interest was definitely piqued.

“So when Fisk finally gets to us, and the city’s in chaos, he thinkin’ he’s just gonna step up as the leader and everyone’s gonna bow to him?”

“By the time Fisk gets to us, this city’s gonna be desperate for a figurehead.”

Matt’s blood ran cold. He’d only felt this way once before, years ago: when his dad had been murdered and Matt’s entire world had been turned upside down.

Wilson Fisk was back.

And Steve had known about it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Blake Tower, The Trial of Captain America by Ed Brubaker


	7. Chapter 7

In addition to trying to work out a plan for how to capture Fisk, the Avengers were having to deal with a number of suspected bombings all over the city. Fury was certain it was connected to Fisk’s imminent return, and didn’t doubt that this was only going to be the first of many efforts to terrorize the city.

Steve wished he could ramble about all of this to Matt. Even if he was allowed to, Matt hadn’t been returning his calls since their parting words at the Tower. When it was time for Matt to fly back to Washington for the trial and he _still_ hadn’t spoken to Steve, it dawned on Steve that this was maybe more than just a rough patch like he’d initially thought - more like a crack in the foundation of their relationship, growing a little bit bigger every day.

“You should go to him,” Clint suggested, several days before Steve was supposed to fly to Washington to testify. They were flat on their bellies on a rooftop, watching the abandoned building Natasha had disappeared into and making sure no one else came in behind her.

“I want to,” Steve said. “I just don’t think I’d be a welcome presence at the moment.”

“It sounds to me like he’s really hurting, Steve,” Clint said. “Put yourself in his shoes: Bucky came first, you still have feelings for the guy, he probably thinks that you think you’d have been better off without him.”

“If I’d never met Matt, I might’ve blown my brains out,” Steve said honestly.

“If he really means that much to you, you need to show him how much you care.”

He took Clint’s advice, and found himself touching down in Washington the day before Bucky’s case went to trial. On the drive to his hotel, he passed by the courthouse and the entire block was packed with protesters both for and against Bucky, waving homemade signs over their heads and chanting, surrounded by news vans.

After the fifth time he called Matt and was met with again with his voicemail, he left a message telling Matt that he had come early to Washington and wanted to talk to him face to face. He tried both Karen and Foggy’s numbers next. Foggy’s went straight to voicemail, Karen ended the call after the second ring.

The thought of sitting around his hotel room all evening was too dismal to bear, so he decided to check in on Bucky. A quick Google search gave him directions to the jailhouse, but when he arrived and asked to speak privately with Bucky, he was shown to a concrete box of room, Bucky seated in handcuffs at a table with an armed guard positioned beside him.

“Can we get some privacy?” Steve asked.

The guard shifted uncomfortably. “I, uh… I’m so sorry, sir. I have orders to-”       

“You know who I am, son?” Steve said, putting on his very best Captain America voice.

“O-Of course, sir.”

“I am ordering you,” he said slowly, threateningly, “To uncuff Sergeant Barnes and give us the room.”

“Yes, sir,” the guard stammered, fishing a key out of his pocket with shaky hands and unlocking Bucky’s handcuffs. “H-How long do you need?”

“I’ll call for you,” Steve said.

The guard scurried out of the room and closed the door behind him, leaving Steve and Bucky alone together.

“Hey, Buck,” Steve said, his voice kind and soft.

Bucky gave him a small, tired smile. He pushed his hair out of his face (Steve wished he’d keep it short, the way he used to wear it) and leaned forward, folding his arms on the table.

“There’s a whole group of people cheering for you outside the courthouse,” Steve said, sitting down across from Bucky.

“Accompanied, I’m sure, by another group calling for me to be executed.”

“That’s not gonna happen.” He leaned forward in his chair, taking in Bucky’s exhausted, disheveled appearance. “Anyone else come by to see you?”

“Natasha, every day. Matt and Foggy couple of times. Karen, once, with chocolates. She’s nice.” Bucky bit his lip and looked away. “I’ve been thinking, Steve - what the ADA was saying in that video, about how we need to start being held accountable for our crimes? He’s right. Why should superheroes get a free pass? The law applies to all of us.” He gave a halfhearted shrug. “I broke it.”

“No, you didn’t, Buck. This is different. You weren’t in control of yourself.”

“Doesn’t matter. It’s not about me anymore - Tower wants to set an example. If I’m exonerated, it sends a message to the world that the hero community is untouchable. We lose everyone’s trust.”

Steve leaned heavily back in the chair and put his hand over his eyes. “Bucky...”

“I know it’s not what you wanna hear, but let’s face it: this case has already been tried in the press.”

“You’re giving up?”

“I’m just tired of running from my past,” Bucky said sadly. “It was stupid to think I could bury it: all the people I killed, the lives I ruined. No matter how much good I try to do, no one gets to walk away from that. It was gonna catch up with me sooner or later.”

“I can’t hear you talk like this,” Steve said, standing up and pushing his chair in. “This isn’t you. The James Barnes I know would be fighting like hell. He’d argue that _everyone_ deserves a chance to right their wrongs. This isn’t about setting an example: this is your _life_. No, I’m not gonna hear you talk like this.” He started walking to the door.

“Steve!” Bucky called out.

When Steve turned around, Bucky was up on his feet. The look on his face was angry and helpless. Steve went over to him at once, rounding the table, and wrapped his arms around Bucky in a fierce embrace.

He squeezed him tighter than the other man might’ve been able to handle, but Bucky didn’t say anything about it. After several minutes had passed, Bucky eased back a bit, looking Steve in the eyes, his arms tight around Steve’s waist. Steve was suddenly aware of just how physically close they were, closer than they’d been in months. He could see every small freckle on Bucky’s face. He could feel Bucky’s breath on his lips. Without any warning, Bucky suddenly surged forward and kissed him soundly on the mouth, and Steve felt as though his whole body had been set on fire.

He fisted one hand in Bucky’s hair and deepened the kiss, his other hand gripping hard at Bucky’s hip to press their pelvises together. Bucky yanked Steve’s shirt up out of his pants and raked his nails down Steve’s abdomen. He sank his teeth into Steve’s lower lip, drawing blood, and then moaned like a porn star when Steve sucked on his tongue.

“Oh, God, Steve,” he gasped when Steve broke away to kiss hungrily down his neck, roughly pulling Bucky’s head back by his hair. “Missed you so much, want you so bad. Want to bend you over the fucking table.”

He took Steve’s face in his hands and pulled him up for another searing kiss, sliding his tongue alongside Steve’s. Steve grabbed Bucky by the waist and hoisted him onto the table. He tugged up the back of Bucky’s shirt and ran his hands down the muscled, sweaty expanse of skin there. It wasn’t until Bucky unbuckled Steve’s belt, yanked it off, and started unbuttoning his jeans that the reality of what they were doing came crashing down on Steve.

“Bucky, stop,” he said gently, breathless and trembling as he seized Bucky’s wrists. Bucky tried to kiss him again and Steve leaned out of reach. “ _Stop_.”

“Oh, fuck,” Bucky whispered. They moved away from each other at once, Steve picking his belt up off the floor and putting it on with unsteady hands as Bucky slowly backed away from him. “I’m sorry, Steve, I shouldn’t have-”

“Not your fault.”

“I know you and Matt are-”

“Yeah, we are... We are. _Fuck_.”

“I don’t know what I was thinking.” Bucky pressed his back to the wall and ran his hands through his hair. “You and me are over... right? It’s over between us?”

Steve gave him a long, sad stare. His best friend. The first person he’d fallen in love with. The man he was crazy about. It should’ve been an easy question to answer, only problem was that they weren’t the same people they’d been back in the 40s, and Steve hadn’t realized it until right this moment. The man standing in front of him was not the same Bucky Barnes Steve had loved - no less of a man, but not the same one. And he wasn’t the same Steve Rogers.

Steve was in love with someone else, and, because of Steve, that person was in serious pain.

“Yeah, Buck,” he said softly, resolutely. “You and me are over.”

It was dark outside when he came bounding down the jailhouse steps. The first number he dialed was Matt's; this time, it went to voicemail after only a half of one ring. He called Foggy next and let out a sigh of relief when the other man answered.

"Hey, Steve! I saw you called earlier, my phone's been turned off."

“Is Matt with you?”

“No, he’s holed up in his room. S'been a rough day, he’s probably passed out by now.”

“Which hotel?”

Foggy sighed. “Look, man, I know this is none of my business, but I think you’re just about the last person he wants to see right now, and that’s a _long_ list of names at the moment.”

“I get that, but this is important.”

Foggy hesitated a moment before slowly responding, “He’s in room 322 at the Hyatt. But I’m tellin’ you... _tread lightly_.”


	8. Chapter 8

Before Steve even raised his hand to knock on Matt’s door, Matt answered wearing nothing but pajama pants, his dark hair tousled. He must’ve been in bed when he heard Steve walking through the building. “When were you going to tell me about Fisk?” he demanded.

Steve could feel all the color draining out of his face. “How did you...?”

“Where you even planning on telling me?”

“I didn’t want you to worry. We’re handling it,” Steve said. “We know exactly where he’s holed up and we’re keeping track of his men’s whereabouts. Don’t let any of this derail you from Bucky’s case, it’s all being taken care of.”

Matt put his hands on his hips and cocked his head. “That’s all you have to say to me: _Stay focused on Bucky’s case_ ? Fuck you, Steve. You should have told me. The _second_ you found out he’d escaped, you should have told me.”

“You’re right.” Steve said, hands up in surrender. “I’m sorry. I made a bad call. I was afraid, partly, that you’d drop all the work you’ve been doing to clear Bucky’s name, but mostly that you wouldn’t think things through before rushing in to get Fisk.”

“I don’t need you looking out for me. I’m not a child.”

“No, but you’re not invincible!”

An older man wearing pajamas opened the door across from Matt’s room. “You two wanna keep it down out here, or do I need to phone the front desk?” he snapped.

Steve started to apologize when Matt grabbed him by the jacket and pulled him into the dark room, slamming the door shut behind them. Steve’s eyes adjusted to the darkness at once, and he could clearly see the tight, unhappy expression on Matt’s face.

He stood directly in front of Steve and crossed his arms. “Are we really going to have this argument again? Honestly, I’m a little bit amazed that you still find the time to patronize me amidst all the shit we’re dealing with.”

“I don’t mean to be patronizing - I just worry about you, the same way I worry about Clint and Sam and Natasha and even Tony.”

“Only difference is you don’t question _their_ decision to take up the cape every chance you get.”

“Because I’m not in a _relationship_ with any of them!”

Matt didn’t respond, and, after a long, uncomfortable pause, Steve figured there would never be a good time to share what he did next.

He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and said, “Me and Bucky… we kissed. It just happened in the moment and it didn’t go on for very long, but I feel awful about it and I want to be completely transparent with you.”

When he opened his eyes again, Matt hadn’t moved a muscle. He stood still with his shoulders back and his arms crossed. “I know you still have feelings for him,” he said slowly, “I get that. What I need to know _now_ is whether or not you still want to be with him. Because you can’t have both of us-”

“Matt-”

“And you can’t keep _pining_ after him. Not if you want this ‘relationship’ to continue. You make me feel like your _baggage_ , Steve.” Matt ran his hands through his hair. “I don’t know why I let you keep doing this to me. No, that’s a lie: I know exactly why. It’s because I’m so fucking in love with you. It’s like a fucking stomach virus.”

Steve winced. It hurt to hear Matt’s affections likened to sickness, but he deserved it.

“I can't do this anymore... I just need some time,” Matt continued, more to himself than to Steve, turning his back on the other man and walking to the window. “Some time away from you. And distance.”

“Matt, I don’t want to be with Bucky!” Steve said vehemently, Matt’s words cutting through him like a knife. “I want you!”

Matt chuckled bitterly. “Yeah, okay. Good to know.”

“I know how it sounds at this point, but there’s no other way to say it: I want _you_. I love you so much, Matt. If I’d said it to you every day of every year I was under that ice, it still wouldn’t be enough.” Matt turned around to face him, and Steve, having nothing left to lose, went up to his boyfriend and dropped to his knees, holding Matt by the hips. “I love you. And I will never forgive myself for the way I made you feel; I don’t expect you to forgive me, either.”

“This is what I’m talking about!” Matt said. “You do this thing where you’re so earnest and heartfelt, and then I feel like an asshole for wishing you’d pay more attention to me!”

Steve closed his eyes, leaned forward to rest his head against Matt’s bare stomach. “What do you want me to do?” he said brokenly. “I’ll do it, just tell me. I don’t want to lose you, Matt.”

Matt hesitantly moved one hand to stroke Steve’s hair. Steve sighed and wrapped his arms around Matt’s waist, turning his head to settle more fully against the other man. Matt’s skin was scarred and soft and warm to the touch, his nails scratched soothingly over Steve’s scalp: it would almost be comfortable, if Steve wasn’t trembling all over and his heart wasn’t hammering in his chest as he waited for Matt’s response.

Matt finally took in a deep breath and said, “If you want to be with me, there can’t be anyone else.”

“There isn’t,” Steve firmly replied. He kissed the pale, raised scar underneath Matt’s navel, feeling all through his body the way Matt shuddered and sighed. “Just you.”

Matt grabbed him by the lapels of his jacket, tugging him up onto his feet. Steve tightened his arms around Matt and nudged their noses together.

“Don’t make me regret you, Steve Rogers,” Matt whispered.

“I won’t,” Steve swore. “I promise.”

Matt draped his arms over Steve’s shoulders, tucking his face into Steve’s neck. Steve wasn’t sure how long they stayed that way, wrapped around one another in the dark, but he could easily have stood there all night, breathing in that clean, specifically _Matt_ smell from the side of his boyfriend’s neck, stroking his fingers across Matt’s bare lower back. After a long while, Matt lifted his head, sliding his hands into Steve’s hair.

“When was the last time you fucked me?” he whispered, pressing his hips into Steve’s.

The question was enough to make Steve blush. He shrugged off his jacket and let it fall to the floor, tentatively touching his lips to Matt’s in a soft, unhurried kiss. When Matt kissed him back, wrapping his arms around Steve’s neck, Steve hugged him close and walked him back towards the bed. He eased Matt down onto the mattress and then, pulling his shirt off over his head, took the waistband of Matt’s pants in both hands and slowly pulled them off. He knelt in between his boyfriend’s legs and took one up in his hand, kissing Matt from the smooth skin of his ankle all the way to his thigh.

“You’d better hurry up, Rogers.”

“Sure thing,” Steve muttered, draping Matt’s legs over his shoulders and going down on him with evident delight, wasting no time in bringing Matt to his first climax.

“You should take your pants off,” Matt breathlessly suggested as Steve crawled up into his arms, pressing sweet, sloppy kisses to Steve’s lips.

“Nah, I’m all right,” Steve teased. He sat up for a moment to unzip and pull down his jeans, and then there were no more layers between them and Steve sighed at the incomparable feeling of skin on skin. “We should do this more often.”

Matt chuckled into Steve’s mouth, drawing his foot up the back of Steve’s leg. “You’ve definitely had worse ideas.”

“Like what? Agreeing to move in with you?”

“Exactly.”

“I’d say that was one of my better ideas,” Steve said, suddenly sitting up and, before Matt could protest his absence, grabbing Matt by the waist and flipping him onto his hands and knees. He kissed the back of Matt’s neck, his shoulder, his back, and then took Matt by the hips and buried his face into Matt’s backside, wishing he could see the face that accompanied the sounds Matt always made whenever Steve did this to him.

He licked into Matt until his boyfriend was shaking and begging. Steve was thrilled and aroused and wildly in love, and when he pulled back and sat up on his knees, sliding into the other man with a sigh of immense pleasure, he thought only of Matt. No one else.


	9. Chapter 9

Matt was considerably more relaxed than he’d been in weeks when the trial finally got underway - owing, without a doubt, to getting laid on the regular again. There really was nothing comparable, he had mused to himself, walking up those courthouse steps on Day One, nothing that came even _close_ to the bone-deep satisfaction of waking up with Steve warm and heavy in his arms after a night of some intensely good fucking.

“You and Steve worked it out, then?” was the first thing Foggy had said to him when they met in the courtroom. At Matt’s questioning look, he’d rolled his eyes and continued, “Please. You look like a newlywed. And you’ve got a hickey. Try tamper down that smugness for the jury.”

Bucky must’ve cleaned way the fuck up, Matt had figured, if Foggy’s quickening heart rate and soft little, “Oh,” when Barnes was escorted into the courtroom was anything to go by.

“Got a crush on the client, Nelson?” Matt had muttered.

“You know, if I had to pick a guy...”

Just then Bucky had approached their table, tense and fidgety.

“Ready?” Matt had asked him, warmly - if a little too firmly (he was only human, after all) - shaking Bucky’s hand.

“As much as I’ll ever be.”

“All right, then,” Foggy said. “Let’s do this thing.”

Judge Powell had barred all cameras and news people from the courtroom, and so, having no reporters to play up to, opening statements were kept clipped and to the point.

Matt and Foggy pulled every witness they could track down from the list Steve gave them. ADA Blake Tower, just as they’d suspected, was a ruthless and sophisticated prosecutor, but Nelson and Murdock were equally merciless in their cross examinations.

Tower had primarily called to the stand various thugs and spies that Bucky had worked with - and, in some cases, against - as the Winter Soldier. Their testimonies all centered on his cold, efficient remorselessness that had made him so excellent an assassin. They listed all the crimes he’d committed, all the people he’d killed, but it was what Matt had expected: after all, they weren’t arguing that he didn’t do it, but that he hadn’t been in control of his actions and was, therefore, innocent; as such, Steve had included in his research a number of mind control experts who each provided excellent testimonies.

Everything seemed to be going well, until Sam lost his temper with Tower’s questioning and Judge Powell threatened to hold him in contempt. Being one of their star witnesses, they’d counted on Sam to hold his ground in the cross examination, had even prepped him for Tower’s particular level of intensity. What had gotten under the hero’s skin, Sam said when Foggy requested further questioning to try to save face, was Tower’s questioning Bucky’s motives for flying to New York when he’d thought that Sam and Natasha’s lives were being threatened.

Sam apologized profusely when they went on recess, but Matt assured him that the outburst had been proof of the intense loyalty Bucky inspired in his friends and spoke volumes about Bucky’s character; privately, Matt knew that Tower was already working out how to use it against them in some way.

Steve was their final witness on the final day and his testimony - _Thank God_ , Matt wanted to holler - went flawlessly. He unflinchingly held his ground and kept his cool in a truly admirable cross examination, poised and unaffected and collected. It couldn’t have gone better if Matt had staged the whole thing himself.

They moved on at last to closing statements, Tower hammering again the point he'd made to the press the night Bucky had skipped town: “James Barnes is personally responsible for the murder of dozens. He _killed_ people, and killing people is a _crime_. If this were any other man, would we need to jump through this many hoops to get him indicted? We need to start holding the superhero community responsible for their crimes.”

“[Our] client is a good man,” Matt said, “Who’s been used by others against his will, and who’s struggled to earn redemption for the things he was _forced_ to do. The simple fact is... James Barnes is not guilty.* The people who mutilated him and used mind control to make him do their work: your anger, your outrage at these crimes, should be directed towards them - _not_ a decorated veteran who _died_ defending his country and still risks his life every day to keep you safe. Sergeant Barnes is _not_ a criminal.”

Everyone nervously filed out of the courtroom as the jury went off to deliberate. Steve, who had stood in the back of the room holding his breath throughout Matt’s speech, made a beeline for the elevator as soon as he stepped out into the hallway, effectively avoiding the herd of press people that had been camping outside the courtroom doors.

He went into their room and took a seat at the long table. Almost half an hour crawled by, and then another half, and still Steve was alone. He shot off a quick text to Sam, _Where are you?_ He was about to get on his feet and go searching for everyone when Matt walked in and, finding Steve, flashed one of his rare unguarded smiles, the slow, sweet ones that seemed to light up his entire demeanor.

“And just when it looks like all hope is lost...” he said teasingly, taking Steve’s chin in his hand, “...Captain America saves the day. You were fantastic on the stand.”

Steve reached up to lace his fingers through Matt’s. “Your closing statement was incredible.”

“I meant every word. Bucky’s an innocent man, and I think we’ve more than proved that beyond a reasonable doubt.”

“The jury’s taking a while. Is that good or bad?”

“I don’t know,” Matt said honestly. “But it does mean they’re considering this case from every angle.”

He let go of Matt’s hand and stood up, looking around the empty room. “Where is everybody?”

“Bucky’s downstairs with Natasha. Sam and Foggy took off with Karen for Starbucks.” He squeezed one of Steve’s massive shoulders. “Try to relax, babe. All we can do now is wait.”

“I hate waiting,” Steve grumbled. “What if they send him to prison?”

“Then we ask for a retrial,” Matt said, reaching up to lace his fingers around the back of Steve’s neck. “But when they _do_ exonerate him _today_ , we should all go out to dinner. Celebrate. Someplace with a great burger, yeah?”

Steve smiled and, taking Matt by the waist, lowered his head to kiss him briefly on the lips. “You’re amazing.”

“I know.”

Matt suddenly perked up a bit, seemingly listening for something, and then slid his hands into Steve’s hair and pulled him down into the kind of filthy, wet, open mouthed kiss typically reserved for Matt’s bedroom.

Matt had never been big on showing any such interest in public places, more out of respect for Steve’s wanting to keep his private life private than from any personal aversion. But they were alone, Steve mused, and it’d been a trying day for Matt, no pun intended. Figuring the other man was looking to blow off some steam, he pulled Matt flush up against him and tried to give as good as he got, until...

“Oh,” Bucky halted in the doorway. “Sorry, didn’t mean to, um. Just wanted to talk to Steve for a minute?”

Matt took his time pulling away, licking his lips and making a show of adjusting his suit, and then left without a word, while Steve stood there flushed and rumpled and feeling like he should’ve seen that one coming.

“I’m guessing you told him what happened,” Bucky said.

Steve adjusted his suit and ran a hand through his tousled hair. “I don’t like keeping secrets.”

“I know. Me neither. Which is why I wanted to tell you that I, um... The reason why I... did that, you know... let that happen at the jailhouse... In some ways, I still really care about you. I mean _care about you_ care about you, you know?”

“Plainer words, Buck?”

Bucky huffed, self-consciously toying with one of his cufflinks. “Things haven’t been so great with you and me since I got back. I know you still have - or had - feelings for me, and I... I took advantage of that a little bit. And, bein’ totally honest... I think I still had feelings for you, too. Or I thought I did - still wanted you in that way, I mean. Things are just so different now. We're such different people.” He looked up helplessly at the other man. “I’ve just really missed you, Steve. I want us to be friends again.”

Steve lowered his eyes and took a deep breath before responding, “Maybe when this is all over, we could grab a coffee and just... talk for a while.”

“I’d like that.”

“There you are,” Foggy said, sticking his head in the doorway. “Jury’s back.”

“ _Fuck_ ,” Bucky whispered.

Steve stepped forward and gave Bucky’s shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “It’s gonna be all right. C’mon.”

He looked Steve in the eye, saw all of the courage and strength there, and nodded, squaring his shoulders and following Foggy out into the hallway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *The Trial of Captain America by Ed Brubaker


	10. Chapter 10

“You all right?” Steve panted.

“Yeah. Yeah. God, _Steve_.”

Matt pulled Steve into another fierce, messy kiss, tightening his thighs around Steve’s waist as the other man, holding Matt up against the wall and fucking him senseless, shifted his hold on Matt so that he could reach between them and jerk off the triumphant lawyer.

After the jury had declared the verdict - not guilty on all counts - the group had decided to go out for dinner to celebrate.

“You go ahead, we’ll catch up,” Matt had said to everyone, subtlety out the window as he’d dragged Steve down the hall and into the men’s restroom, locking the door behind them and leading Steve back into the largest stall.

True, they had been having a _lot_ of sex since Steve had come to his hotel room several nights ago, Matt hazily mused, but so what? Bucky’s case had been ridiculously stressful in so many ways, and hearing that _not guilty_ verdict had felt like a great weight suddenly lifted off of Matt’s shoulders. Who could fault him for feeling more than a little exultant, especially when all 6 feet 3 inches of the sexiest man alive was in proximity and entirely at Matt’s disposal?

They came at the same time, moaning into one another’s mouths and clutching each other close. Steve carefully set Matt back on his feet, keeping his arms about Matt’s waist and kissing him with unhurried pleasure.

“You are an incredible man,” Steve murmured against his lips in between slow, sweet kisses. “And an incredible boyfriend. And an incredible lawyer.”

“I guess we should go meet up with everyone.”

"Or we could just go back to the hotel.”

“Yeah?”

“Your call.”

“Hm.” Matt smoothed his hands down Steve’s bare, muscled chest. “Very tempting. But everyone’s expecting us at dinner. How ‘bout...” he said softly, swiping his thumb through the splatter of his own come on Steve’s stomach. “We make an appearance, and afterwards I blow you in the car on the way back?”

Steve pressed his smile to the underside of Matt’s jaw. “Sounds like a plan.”

They cleaned themselves up and snuck out the back door of the courthouse, hoping to avoid the press. As soon as they stepped outside, however, they were met with microphones and video cameras and dozens of flashing bulbs.

Bucky’s case being so high-profile, Matt knew it was expected he stop and speak with everyone and was sure Foggy had already done so. He’d just never cared much for dealing with news crews. Taking a deep, resigned breath to ready himself for the first question - “Why do you think Barnes was found not guilty?” - he felt Steve’s hand slip warmly, pointedly, into his and the sound of clicking cameras nearly quadrupled.

“James Barnes is an innocent man,” Matt began, lacing his fingers through Steve’s and squeezing. “He was forced to do the things he did, and, since then, has been making amends by working alongside the Avengers to protect people. Barnes is a hero. Next.”

Voices on voices until Matt made a show of picking out one he recognized. “Sandra?” he ventured, gesturing in the general direction of the CNN reporter.

“Counselor,” Sandra said. “What do you make of the ADA’s claim that we need to hold the hero community to our own legal standards?”

“The superhero community is a community of superheroes: people with extra abilities, who are forced every day to make life or death calls with sometimes only a second to decide. Interfering with their way of doing things would be a hindrance to their work. Next... Gabriella.”

“Captain Rogers, are you and the Counselor _involved_?”

Steve hesitated next to him. Matt found himself holding his own breath as he gave Steve’s hand an affirming squeeze.

“We are in a relationship, yes,” Steve said.

There came another wave of clicking cameras, accompanied this time by the sudden roar of voices all shouting questions of varying degrees of intrusiveness. Done with the whole thing at once, Steve led the way through the noisy throng. They made it to the curb and he hailed a fortuitous cab, opening the door for Matt to climb into the backseat first (another great wave of cameras all snapping away) and then scooting in beside him and shutting the door.

The restaurant was a warm, small family-owned business about 15 minutes away. Sam, Foggy, Karen, Natasha, and Bucky were all seated at a round table at the very back, laughing and smiling and happily putting a dent in the communal appetizers.

“There you are!” Karen called out.

“We figured you two would be a while, so we all went ahead and ordered,” Sam said, casually draping an arm over the back of Steve’s seat as the pair got settled.

Matt could feel the sudden heat radiating off of Steve - no doubt embarrassed by the blatant implication of Sam’s words - and put a comforting hand on his boyfriend’s knee.

“Are either of you yet aware,” Foggy said dramatically, passing his cell phone to Steve, “That you are currently trending? #PowerCouple is about to crash the Internet.”

Steve looked down at Foggy’s Twitter dashboard and let out a little huff, slowly shaking his head. He put his hand over Matt’s where it still rested on his knee. “With all the media attention, it was bound to come out sooner or later,” he said with a shrug. “Figured it was time.”

“Good for you two,” Bucky said warmly, genuinely.

Matt gave him a small smile.

The food was delicious and everyone, save Steve, got considerably more drunk than they’d intended (and in Matt’s case, more handsy under the table; it was Steve’s fault for being so goddamn adorable when he got all flustered). At one point, Foggy - seated, strangely enough, between Bucky and Natasha - brazenly, if still a bit discreetly, slung one of his legs over Bucky’s, as if the two of them were lounging someplace private together. Matt seemed to be the only one at the table who’d picked up on the action, and subsequently on Bucky’s settling his metal hand high up on Foggy’s thigh and then - curiouser and curiouser - on Natasha reaching over to idly sift her fingers through the hair at the nape of Foggy’s neck. Matt inwardly marveled at how this particular development had slipped past him in the last few weeks - had he really been that preoccupied with his own private dilemmas?

He was so baffled by the whole thing that he didn’t notice the sure, heavy footsteps of 3 different men coming quickly down the outside pavement until they were closing in on the door. Sound of bells as the door opened. Those footsteps moving at once in their direction.

“James Barnes? You must come with me.” Russian accent.

Matt got to his feet and faced the trio. “I’m Mr. Barnes’ lawyer. What’s this about?”

“I am Ambassador Arkady Jadnoski, Mr. Murdock, and I have extradition orders to bring the Winter Soldier back to Russia, where he has already been convicted in absentia for crimes against the state.”

“ _Convicted_?” Steve parroted. “For what crimes?”

“The murder of two Russian citizens.”

“If Bucky killed anyone,” Foggy said, walking around the table to stand next to Matt. “It was under Hydra’s orders and sanctioned by the state.”

“The Winter Soldier had not been ordered to kill them.”

When Foggy and Matt didn’t respond, Sam spoke up, “So, what, you just get to take him?”

“I have the official papers with me,” Jadnoski said.

Matt instinctively tensed up when the Ambassador reached into his suit jacket, and only relaxed by one or two degrees when he did, indeed, produce parchment that Foggy snatched out of his hands and silently skimmed.

“Where are you taking him?” Foggy asked in a small voice.

The two men with Jadnoski started walking around to Bucky. Before they reached him, he rose calmly to his feet.

“Moscow.” Jadnoski replied, and then, to Bucky, “Come with us.”

Bucky obediently followed, those two men hovering uneasily at his flanks.

“We’re gonna get you out of this, Buck,” Steve said firmly.

Bucky squeezed Steve’s shoulder as he passed him. “I know you will.”

He left with the Russians, and an uneasy feeling had settled in everyone's stomachs.


	11. Chapter 11

Back in New York, Matt and Foggy were present for the meeting with Nick Fury regarding Bucky’s extradition. Outwardly, Matt was engaged and responsive and helpful. Inwardly, he was wondering if it had become his lot in life to be forever working to keep Barnes out of prison. He had plenty of sympathy for Bucky, but he couldn’t help feeling more than a little worn out and bitter.

It was agreed that Sharon and Natasha would go to Moscow and dig around for whatever information they could find on Bucky’s supposed victims. Steve and Fury set up a meeting with the President to work out some sort of diplomatic deal between the USA and Russia.

With a solid plan in place, all they could do next was wait. It seemed as though Steve was ready to crawl out of his own skin, itching to get on his feet and  _ do  _ something. He lingered in the conference room with Matt and Sam, tense and unhappy, after everyone else had filed out.

Matt stood up and went behind him. “Are you ready to head out?” he asked, firmly kneading Steve’s shoulders.

Steve gave a grateful little groan, dropping his chin a bit and relaxing into the massage - more out of sheer exhaustion, Matt knew, than actual relaxation; it had been 2 days since Bucky was taken away and Steve hadn’t given himself even 5 minutes for sleep. Super soldier or no, Matt was getting him out of the Tower and into pajamas  _ tonight  _ with or without Steve’s consent. At the very least, Steve needed some food in his belly.

“I think I’m gonna stick around here for a while, see if I can find anything in our records that might be useful.”

“No.”

“Matt.”

“You need to sleep. And shower.”

Steve gave a tired little chuckle. “That bad, huh?”

“You can come back in the morning.” Matt bent over a bit and wrapped his arms around him. “I just don’t want you to burn yourself out, babe,” he said honestly, throwing that  _ babe  _ in there as a last resort, knowing how much Steve liked to hear it.

“Listen to your man, Rogers,” Sam said. “Go get some rest. I’ll start digging around; anything comes up, I’ll shoot you a text, all right?”

“Guess I’m outnumbered,” Steve sighed, standing up and draping an arm around Matt’s shoulders.  “See you tomorrow, Sam.”

“Goodnight, guys.”

Both of their suitcases - still unpacked from the Washington trip - were on the ground by the door. They grabbed their luggage and walked out into the hallway. When they were alone in the elevator, Matt got up on his toes and kissed his boyfriend’s cheek. “I don’t mean to be a nag,” he said softly. “I just worry about you.”

“I know,” Steve tightened his hold on him, lowering his face to kiss Matt chastely on the lips. “I don’t mind the nagging. Kinda like it, actually.”

"You are... very important to me, Steve. I'm sorry that this has been such a nightmare for you."

"Not your fault."

"Still." He wound his arms around Steve's waist. "After everything you and Bucky have both been through, you don't deserve this bullshit."

"People rarely get what they deserve."

Matt asked the receptionist to call them a cab and they waited together in the lobby, trying to avoid being accosted by the massive crowd of paparazzi that surrounded the building. Security escorted them to the curb, held back the more aggressive photographers, and they took off in the direction of Steve's Brooklyn apartment.

“Do you want to shower now or in the morning?” Matt asked when they arrived, letting them in with the key Steve had had made for him.

“Morning, I guess,” Steve mumbled, moving slowly across the spacious living room and into his bedroom. The sleep deprivation had finally hit him during the cab ride over. He collapsed at once into bed, fully clothed, and rolled onto his side, giving a soft little hum when Matt sat down beside him and delicately brushed the backs of his fingers across Steve’s brow.

“Do you need anything?” he asked.

Steve shook his head.

“Do you want to be alone?”

Another shake.

“Okay. I’m going to take a shower.” He stood up to leave the room and Steve slowly rose with him, following him wordlessly into the dark bathroom and stripping out of his wrinkled suit. He climbed into the shower behind Matt and wrapped his arms around his boyfriend’s waist, lowering his face to the side of Matt’s neck.

“I feel so useless,” Steve mumbled against Matt’s skin.

Matt laid his hands over Steve’s. “You’re doing all you can.”

“There’s something...  _ off  _ about this whole thing.”

“Sharon and Natasha are flying to Moscow in a few hours, right?”

“They are.”

“He  _ will  _ get out of there, Steve. We just don’t know when, yet.”

Steve sighed and pulled Matt closer to him, and they ended up simply standing under the hot spray for half an hour rather than actually showering. Afterwards, Matt toweled the both of them off and led Steve back to bed, curling around Steve’s broad, naked back and idly stroking his fingers over Steve’s arm until his boyfriend fell asleep.

“Steve?” he whispered, giving the other man a gentle shake. When there came no response, he carefully climbed out from under the covers and picked his clothes up off the floor, silently dressing himself. He leaned over to press one soft, lingering kiss to Steve’s shoulder, murmuring, “I love you,” against his skin and suddenly realizing that he didn't know when he would get to be with Steve again. He shut his eyes tight against the unexpected tears and laid his head against Steve's bicep.

It hadn't been so difficult, before he'd met Steve, before Steve had nervously asked Matt out on a date, to make these big, bold decisions. Things were so much easier back then. He knew he very well could go back to life without Steve, but the very thought made him intensely unhappy.

Steeling his resolve, deciding then and there that he _would_ come back to his boyfriend, he got up to grab his things and left the apartment.

Out on the curb with his suitcase, waiting for the cab he’d called to take him to the airport, he knew it was Natasha Romanov walking up to him long before she asked, “Where are you off to?”

“Minneapolis.”

She came to a stop right beside him. “Does Steve know you’re going after Fisk?”

“He’ll understand.”

" He’s not gonna like it.”

“This is something I have to take care of.”

He could sense her hesitation before she said, “I was wrong about you.”

“How so?”

“Don’t make me say it.”

“I don’t know what you mean,” Matt said, feigning innocence.

She let out a sharp little exhale. “You’re a good guy, Matt. He’s lucky to have you.”

“Now, was that so hard?”

“Yes.”

The taxi pulled up in front of them. The driver stepped out to tuck Matt’s suitcase into the trunk.

“Take care of yourself, Romanov,” he said, holding out his hand. Her grip was warm and firm.

“Be careful out there,”

“Same to you.”

The driver opened the backseat door and Matt climbed inside, his head and his heart filled with Steve as the cab rounded the corner and disappeared.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Have not yet decided whether or not to continue this story - if anyone else would like to, please go ahead. This was great fun to write. Hope you enjoyed it.
> 
> UPDATE: Currently working on a sequel. Stay tuned.


End file.
